


A Hunter's Mark

by Sytrys_Cauldron



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: A lot of characters from Bloodborne are mentioned but never really elaborated on, Alternate Universe, Beasts are not pretty, Neither is the Mafia, Skull is not a nice person, Skull is the Hunter, So you don't really need to know much about Bloodborne to read this fic, This is Bloodborne so there is some descriptions of blood and the such, this is very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-07-01 18:13:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15779421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sytrys_Cauldron/pseuds/Sytrys_Cauldron
Summary: Skull De Mort is a Hunter, not that he'd ever let the rest of the I Prescelti Sette know that. But his past won't stay in the past, and now the future-arcobaleno are going to find out who their Cloud really is.





	1. The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally an idea that hit me and I jotted down. Probably not going to continue writing it, but if it gets enough of a response I might post some drabbles of it.

Skull leaned against a wall, eyes tracking the movement of the other 7 in the room.  
Renato, Sun. Verde, Lightning. Fon, Storm. Lal Mirch, Rain. Viper, Mist. Luce, Sky. And then himself, Cloud. 

Admittedly he didn’t really know what ‘Cloud’ meant, but judging by the sneering looks on the rest, he wasn’t exactly the picture perfect Cloud.  
He didn’t like being stared at. His eyes narrowed as he stared back at every single one of them. Renato held his gaze, his smirk held firmly in place, fitting the mask of ‘Skull the Lackey’ on he flinched away.  
Idly he wondered if he should return to Yharnam, that cursed city, filled with blood-drunk beasts. But then again, as Eileen had said, ‘A hunter must hunt.’  
He’d done more than a few missions with the lot of them, and loathe as he was to admit it, they weren’t the worst team to have at your back, though it was unlikely they’d survive Yharnam. He almost snorted at the thought, the beasts would chew them up and spit them out half-digested.

However, from what he’d learned of ‘Dying Will Flames’ this was a full-set of guardians with a sky… were they searching for ‘harmony’ between them? As soon as he’d awakened his flames he’d trained himself with them. He would not be tied down to anyone just because they had this so-called, ‘Sky Flame.’ 

Tipping his tricorn down, he let a frown tug at his lips. Everyone here had a measure of respect for each other and it seemed as though everyone felt something was coming. 

All in all, he shouldn’t have been very surprised when a blood-starved beast fell from the ceiling. 

An unholy shriek left its mouth and he cursed, hands fumbling for a blood cocktail, anything to draw the beast away from the - Why were they shooting at it?! The fools! Normal bullets didn’t work against beasts! Almost without thinking he lunged forwards, holding the beast in place for the few scant seconds it took for him to throw a blood cocktail. 

Drawn by the scent the beast shrieked again, lunging for the sweet scent. With the few seconds to breathe, he choked down a few pills before collapsing his blade into the short swords it could become. Hearing the cocking of the gun he threw his arm outwards, “Don’t!” 

Purple flames licked at his shoulders and he pulled out a molotov, throwing it at the beast, and swooping forwards in the same move. The beast, now aflame, writhed in pain, unholy cries tearing themselves out of it’s warped throat. Intent on ending the fight quickly he thrust a dagger into it’s body, keeping it in place as he plunged the short sword into its head. More cries, and - Pain.

A great ripping pain, burning up half his face, barely nicking his eye as he leaped backwards, abandoning his blades. Blindly pulling out his Blunderbuss, he shot wildly, he couldn’t afford to not have it end soon.  
The shrieks died as quickly as they started, the beast falling to the ground, before dissipating into dust.

Dropping his blunderbuss, he carefully felt around the wound, gently prodding the torn flesh. A hiss tore its way out of his mouth and he flinched.

“Lackey.” The voice was enraged. He turned, blood running freely from his newest wound, “What. Was. That.” Renato. The rest stood behind him, eyes trained on where the beast used to be.  
Heaving a sigh, he supposed they deserved at least some answers, after all, Renato’s bullets had done practically nothing to the beast’s hide, yet he’d been able to kill the beast with his blade and an old-fashioned shotgun for lack of a better word.  
“That, Renato, was a beast.”  
Verde looked as though he was fit to burst, questions flitting behind his eyes. Fon’s eyes had narrowed, a calculating edge in his gaze. 

Dark, dark eyes narrowed, “And what, exactly is a beast, lackey?” His voice was soft, a stark difference to the almost palpable edge to his voice beforehand.  
But this, this was the one thing he wouldn’t bend on.  
“That. Renato. Is none of your business.” He knew the people here. Verde would delve too deeply, create another Yharnam. Skull could not allow that to happen. Too many had died the last time, he wouldn’t let that happen again. 

“Lackey.” It wasn’t a question, and if this were anything else he might’ve bent, he might’ve let them all know. Of the horrors on the streets of Yharnam, the blood-lust that had consumed the entire town, the experiments of the choir, the halls of Mensis, the fishing hamlet, all of it. But these were people he did not trust, could not trust with this secret. They’d want to weaponize it, and there weren’t any hunters left.

He was all that was left.

A single hunter against a horde. Even if he was a rather good hunter, he wouldn’t be able to hold back a horde. Even all the church hunter’s wouldn’t be able to, for all their strength.

With great effort he pried his right eye open. He could still see. That was good, he didn’t think he’d be able to pull of the eyepatch like Djura could. Searching for a blood vial, he jammed it into his leg, giving the group one last warning look he picked up his blades. 

He had to find out where the beast had come from. He wouldn’t let another Yharnam happen. He couldn’t. 

)()()()()()()()()()()(

When the… creature had burst from the ceiling, Renato had been speechless. Who would attack a meeting of the so-called I Prescelti Sette, the World’s Strongest Seven? Even if the Lackey was one of the weakest he’d ever met.

Except, the lackey wasn’t weak. He’d killed the creature that had brushed off his bullet, his Chaos Shot as though it was nothing. He’d held his own against a creature that looked like it’d come straight out of a horror movie. Not even held his own, he’d killed it, while the rest of them had looked on in bafflement. 

And then he’d refused to answer him. Every time he’d so much as narrowed his eyes at the purple-haired cloud, he’d bent, spitting out apologies and almost crying in fear. Yet this time, even with the gun leveled at his head, he’d stared him down, and said no.

And now he was leaving. He’d picked up his blade with one last hard look and had left, not looking behind even once. Renato hated it. He’d bought the act of ‘Skull’ hook, line and sinker. That could’ve gotten him killed. Skull was much more than he first thought, and Renato? Renato was going to find out all his little secrets. 

)()()()()()()()()()()(

Fon was having a conundrum.  
He’d felt sorry for Skull, a civilian dragged into the Mafia because of some strange job. Oddly enough he’d not heard of the Stuntman being brought into any families, regardless of his supposed weakness. But then again, no one really knew where he went after the meetings and missions the I Prescelti Sette did.

When the ‘beast,’ as Skull had called it, had dropped from the ceiling, he’d been prepared to lunge forward, to end the fight before it began. 

But Skull, Skull had thrown something, blood? At the creature before leaping forwards. Engaging in a short battle with the creature.

And won. 

When even Renato’s strongest attack had barely been a glancing blow, Skull had destroyed the creatures hind and had killed it.  
His information was lacking and he didn’t like it.  
This would require a gentler hand and judging by the looks of both Renato and Viper, he wouldn’t be the only one looking for answers. 

)()()()()()()()()()()(

Verde was flat-footed.  
He thought he’d known everything he’d needed to know about the weakest of their group. But apparently he was wrong. This didn’t happen often and he greatly disliked the feeling. 

The worst thing was he couldn’t even study the creature that had attacked them, it had just, disappeared into dust. And then Skull!

Those blades, they’d collapsed with mechanisms he’d never seen before. 

Verde was called the second-coming of Da Vinci, yet he’d never been able to create any weapons that could do what Skulls’ blades could. It grated at him. That someone else had achieved what he’d tried to do, and failed. 

He had many questions for Skull, and as Skull left, he thought of going after him. But… the look on his face discouraged any from following.

He shuddered. He never thought that Skull could be frightening.

)()()()()()()()()()()( 

Viper frowned underneath their cloak.  
This was… new. They didn’t know this about the Cloud of their group and it was… irritating. Viper was an informant. They were supposed to have information on everyone they associated with. 

But they didn’t know anything about the Cloud that would give Skull those skills.

Their illusions were worthless. The beast had swiped through them and they’d just… broken. Like a discarded toy. Viper had never had that happen before, never had their illusions just not worked on something.

They hated to admit it but they owed Skull. There illusions were worthless, if the beast had turned on them, they would’ve died. They wouldn’t have been able to fight at all.

)()()()()()()()()()()(

Lal Mirch wasn’t caught off guard often.  
Throughout the entirety of her life, she’d never encountered anything like the… monstrosity that the weakest of the I Prescelti Sette had taken care of. 

Her bullets hadn’t worked, even the tranquility of her Rain flames hadn’t done anything. The beast had shrugged it off and continued its attack. And, as much as it galled her to admit it, she’d been terrified.

Of course she hadn’t shown it, she was professional enough that she looked calm, but in reality, she was anything but.

But Skull… he’d flung into action, his movements had been fluid, no hesitation in his stride as he fought the beast to a standstill. Fought it, and won.

Clearly she’d underestimated the Cloud. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

)()()()()()()()()()()(

Luce smiled gently as the World’s strongest Seven watched the retreating back of their Cloud. 

They’d all underestimated him, and they’d seen but a glimpse of the true strength of him. Of Skull. Admittedly, she hadn’t thought she’d be so affected by the Beast, but the aura it’d given off had nauseated her. 

The I Prescelti Sette were certainly something. Even if her flames yearned for a bond she wouldn’t let them. Skull, for all appearances wasn’t human.

He was something other, her vision couldn’t see it clearly, but she got flashes of the Cloud. Cobbled streets, howls of agony, and something ached whenever she tried to look closer. Her head felt so full, and her Uncle had pulled her back, warned her off looking closer. 

And she listened.  
She didn’t try to look closer, she kept her sight confined to making sure he’d be there to meet the I Prescelti Sette, but something was always there that warned her not to underestimate the purple-haired man.


	2. The Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skull discovers the origins of the Blood-starved beast he had killed and realises what he must do. Luce realises that the time for the curse is near and that she must move her plans for the curse forward, for the sake of the world.

The beast had come from a lab.   
Looking down at the ruined complex, blood staining the walls, and bodies strewn all about, Skull wondered how the now-dead scientists had gotten their hands on the blood needed to create the Blood-starved beast he’d ended only a few hours ago. 

Surely it could not have come from Yharnam? 

That place was sealed off, surrounded by monstrous creatures that guarded the place with a ferocity only seen in animals. Not to mention the many traps he’d laid around the city. No need to tempt fate, after all, if he had fought and killed the many beasts needed to end the Night of the Hunt, who's to say somebody else could as well?

His eyes narrowed when he saw a shadow stumbling about inside the ruined labs. Was someone still alive? That could prove useful. 

Decision made, Skull jumped down, landing almost silently upon the ground. Hand on his sword he crept forwards, ducking through the broken wall. 

Crying.

Soft sobbing emanated from the direction the shadow had been seen.   
On guard, Skull continued his approach. Peering around the corner, the white of the lab coat made the humanoid form easy to spot. 

As if on cue, the form’s head turned to him, revealing blood-shot eyes, sharpened teeth and shaggy hair covering the poor bastard’s features.  
“No…”   
He’d hoped. He’d prayed that the blood-starved beast had been a fluke, the only one left, he’d hoped against hope that it would be the only beast he’d have to face outside of Yharnam.   
Oh, how wrong he was… The sobbing former-human in front of him showed the tell-tale signs of the beastly scourge. 

The former-human crawled towards him, tears falling desperately from his eyes, “... Help… me…” Sobs escaped its distorted mouth as tears continued to drip down its face. 

“What. Did. You. Do.”   
It would find no pity from him. It and its fellows had tampered with that, that should not have been tampered with. And they had doomed another scourge to fall upon the people of this world.   
He had not worked so hard, killed so many, died countless times, to have it all come to an end now. 

“W… we’re… so sorry… we… didn’t mean - “   
“Like Hell you didn’t mean to!” His voice was harsh as he cut the wretch of a man off. 

Loud coughs left the man as he curled in on himself, shame almost permeating the very air around him.   
“I’m sorry… please…”   
Skull doubted the man even knew what he was asking for at this point. His nails were sharpening and his features becoming more beastly at the second. 

Baring his teeth in a mockery of a smile, he brandished his blade, quoting the words of a kind doll, “May you find your worth in the waking world.” 

)()()()()()()()()()()(

After putting the scientist out of his misery, Skull delved further into the labs, stepping over corpses and limbs. His lips pulled as he saw the claw marks on the wall.

He could almost hear the wails of the beasts in Yharnam, could almost taste the thick, cloying blood, could almost feel the raking of claws down his body. 

His skin prickled. Something was here. Watching him. Slowing his walk, Skull carefully adjusted his stance, lifting the blade in front of him, eyes keenly watching the shadows.

There! Lunging forwards he plunged the blade into the shadow, eyes tracked on the arms of the beast. He’d learned his lesson last time, he’d made a beginner’s mistake last time, and it’d cost him an injury he could have avoided had he been faster and less arrogant.

The Hunting hound didn’t stand a chance, and the familiar feeling of blood echoes revitalized him as he trudged onwards. The further he went into the compound the more obvious signs of a struggle appeared. There were bullet holes in the walls, and the many blood-splatters on the wall boded ill for the fates of those who once dwelt in these halls. 

Most doors were barred to him, haphazard blockades made with a desperation that still tinged the air he breathed. A loud panting was heard as he approached the only path left open to him and he lifted his blades once more, slowing his steps as he crept forwards. Peering around the corner he saw the many bodies of scientists piled into a corner, discarded weaponry and the scent of blood were thick. There was a single man in the room, sitting, hunched over in a corner, almost as though he were praying, for what, Skull didn’t know. 

Approaching slowly, Skull readied his blades, there may be yet more beasts and he'd need to take care of these ones before he could move onto tracking those that had left the facility. Darting forward, he gave the man no time to react, merely plunging his short sword into his back and his other into the man head, twisting for good measure. There was no being too careful with beasts. 

Flicking his blades clean of blood he ventured further still, coming across a vial of blood, similar to those found in Yharnam during the scourge. Carefully he examined it, pulling out his own vial to compare the two. They were the same. They must have come from the same place. Both must have come from Yharnam. His heart sunk. He'd thought the town had been lost to the years of time, and, examining the papers nearby he saw old copies of maps, the same maps he'd used to navigate his way to Yharnam when he'd been ill, desperate for some chance to survive the illness that had taken his village to their deaths. What he would not give to go back to those times simply die. No cure was worth the madness that came with hunting. Men were not meant for such knowledge. 

Clearing the labs was easy enough, but Skull knew what he had to do. He had to return to the cursed city of Yharnam, he had to finally return and clear any records of the blood ministrations the healing church had engaged in. Faintly he trembled, he had not returned since the survivors of his first hunt had left. None now dwelt in that city, all had left, the memories too much to bear. No hunters were left there, and the fires had destroyed the town as the night had ended and the dawn had come. But now, the last Hunter had to return to that city, Skull cursed his luck, he had no desire to return, yet he knew, he must.

)()()()()()()()()()()(

Skull's disappearance was felt keenly through the World's Strongest Seven, and Luce of the Giglio Nero felt it keenly. The time for the curse was nigh, and Skull had yet to return. Her unease was felt by the rest of the soon-to-be Arcobaleno. Renato had taken to scanning his eyes over the horizon as if searching for the figure of their missing Cloud. Fon had gone through his tea stock far quicker than usual and had meditated far more often. Verde had retreated to his lab, working extensively on the ashes of the beast that Skull had killed. Viper had counted and recounted their money, occasionally scrying for the Cloud's location. Lal Mirch had begun to take apart and clean her guns every other day, far more often than was needed a tension set in her shoulders as she worked. 

Luce herself had baked far more cookies, and, admittedly she was tempted to use her foresight to find their Cloud, regardless of her Uncle's warnings. The rest of the elements had thought about going after their Cloud, yet they resisted, for although they considered the Cloud weak, they still felt that he was accomplished enough to take care of himself, especially after his killing of the beast that not even Renato had been able to do. But it seemed they had worried for nothing, for on the third month of Skull's disappearance, he had appeared again, a haunted look in his eye, and a reluctance in his posture. 

When he'd spoken he had seemed weary, not the normal 'I haven't slept in a week,' kind of weary, but the bone-deep aching weariness of one who wished desperately for rest, yet knew they'd never be granted it.   
"I apologise for my disappearance, but some," He paused here, seemingly struggling for words, "Personal Matters arose that I must take care of." They could almost hear the capitalisation of the words, 'Personal Matter,' but they didn't pry.  
They were Mafia. Everyone had secrets. 

Luce jumped on the opportunity to convince the Cloud to stay, the Arcobaleno had to be cursed now. There was no other option. She felt guilty, Skull was obviously over-worked and tired, but the fate of the world was far more important than the livelihood of one person.   
Sometimes Luce hated herself. 

"Surely you can stay for one more job, it'll be the last one, and shouldn't take more than a week!" The cheer in her voice was hard to fake and she thanked God that she was so good at lying. Skull wavered before nodding.   
And with one word he doomed himself to decades stuck as an infant.

"Alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Chapter 2! Admittedly I thought this wasn't going to get a big response, but you all surprised me! This probably won't continue to be a linear thing, but here's to hoping!


	3. The Return to Yharnam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skull is cursed, and Luce learns a little of what her dear Uncle wished to keep from her

Skull’s memory of the day they were cursed was fuzzy.  
He’d followed them all up the hill, his hands itching to get back to Yharnam and dispose of the beasts that still lived there.   
He remembered a bright flash of light, throwing his arms up to defend himself then… nothing.

He’d woken an infant and there’d been so much rage.   
He’d been so angry. The choked cry of rage that had escaped his throat was nothing compared to the knowing glint in Luce’s eyes. 

He’d tried to launch himself at her. Tried to rip her throat out like the beasts he hunted.   
How was he to stop the beastly scourge now?  
He was an infant.   
An infant.   
She’d doomed them all.   
That stupid, idiotic, Bitch of a sky had doomed them. 

After that knowledge descended upon him, he’d retreated into himself, let the bloodlust that ran beneath his very skin free. When he awoke there were splatterings of dried blood in the clearing, the other I Prescelti Sette were gone and he was alone. 

And there, in that clearing, naked as the day he was born and hurting, aching from the pain of betrayal he’d wept. Great, heaving sobs had left him and he’d curled into himself, because dammit, on some level he’d trusted Luce. Trusted her to understand, to be a Sky. To not ask questions and just accept that there were some things he’d never share, would never speak of. To offer comfort from the nightmares that haunted him, the memories of the beasts that had torn him to shred, of the utter fear he’d felt, realising how he had to hunt and kill these beasts. The disgust in discovering what the Healing Church had been doing. All of it. Gone.

The gaping ache of Luce’s betrayal and the infantile form he’d been cursed with grated on his sanity. Skull had stayed in that clearing for a week more, before he deemed himself to have enough control over his own bloodlust to return. 

He had no idea where he could go. So back to the Arcobaleno mansion he went. Walking in he noticed the very drastic changes to the mansion. Everything had been lowered to accommodate his new size. The chairs, the table, the fridge, everything. 

He’d stopped for a while and stared at the changes, could feel the bloodlust rising as he fully accepted the fact that Luce had known. She had known exactly what would happen to them. Had known to have enough time to prepare the mansion to have everything resized to fit their new size. She had known and that broke whatever trust he still held for her. 

The room was empty when he walked in, but there were the tell-tale signs that some still dwelt in the mansion. There were a few dishes still in the sink, and the thick cloying scent of cigarette smoke lingered in the room.

Creeping through the mansion, he snuck into his room, giving a small sigh of relief when the sparse belongings he’d kept in the room were untouched. He grimaced as he tried to lift the heavy hunter’s cloak he normally wore and found it too heavy for him to lift, reinforcing his limbs with cloud flames he hefted it up, rummaging through the pockets for the blood vials he still kept in there. 

He frowned, only 2 left. That definitely wasn’t enough to get him through Yharnam, and in this accursed form… he wouldn’t last two seconds. This was a problem. Didn’t that stupid seer of a sky realise what would happen if he couldn’t stop the spread of the scourge? Biting back a snarl of rage he threw the cloak to the floor, anger radiating from his form. 

Finger hooking into claws he flipped the bed, tearing holes into the walls and released a wail. He almost sounded like a cleric beast. How could he fight like this?! All of his attacks relied on his superior speed and strength! A child didn’t have strength! A child couldn’t hold back the amount of Beasts that yet lived in Yharnam! The world was doomed! After all he’d done, all he’d killed, the nightmare that he would never be free from was coming back. 

And he couldn’t stop it.

The tide of madness that had claimed Yharnam was coming after the rest of the world and Skull couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

Before he could fall back into the despair that had claimed him for the past weeks, a knock on the door was heard.   
A tentative voice rung out, “Skull…?”

It was the traitorous Sky. 

Skull opened the door, eyes glowing a bright purple, a feral snarl on his face, “What.” The word was sharp, clipped. 

She flinched, blue, blue eyes darting away from his, scrutinising the floorboards instead of his own eyes. The snarl grew more pronounced as she shied away from him. 

She couldn’t even look him in the eye after what she had done. Coward. 

Collecting herself she drew herself up, “I won’t apologise.”   
He snorted.  
“You think I want your apologies? Nay, I wish that you and all that you love perish.”   
Here he glanced away, “And it shall…”

For all his current dislike of the Sky, he couldn’t go without warning some of what would come if he failed in his duty. 

Along with the fact that he wanted her to know that it was her fault. But he didn’t think anyone would fault him for that.

Brushing past her, he stopped at the door, “Luce.” He bit his lip, debating how much he should explain.   
“There are creatures out there. Beasts, like the one that came here before.” Pausing, he turned to pin her in place with a purple eye.  
Decision made he continued, “These beasts come from a place called Yharnam, and believe me, there are many more that are far more monstrous than the one I slew in front of you.”

Her eyes were wide, hands lifted to her mouth in horror at the implications of his statement.  
“I know not how that Famiglia got their hands on the beastly scourge, but know this, I cannot kill all the beasts that still yet live. I am but one against many, and I too shall fall, quicker yet with this infantile form.”

Turning away from her yet again, “I shall try to hold back the flood. But know this, when the scourge takes all that you love and turns you into a monstrosity. It was your own hubris that led to it.”

Striding away he ignored the soft, “Skull…” That had left her. 

)()()()()()()()()(

Yharnam.   
The City of Healing he had travelled to in his youth. In the vain hope, he’d find a cure to the ailment that had taken his village.   
Alas, he’d found nothing but madness in this city. And he had returned, fool that he was. 

He’d found the path that Famiglia had followed, and irony of ironies it was the same he’d once followed. It almost brought him to laughter.   
There were bodies here, rotting in the shade of trees, the anguish and terror they’d felt was thick in the air, the blood from their bodies had dried, trickling down in an excruciatingly familiar river of blood. 

Hurrying past, he ignored the many bullet holes and claw marks decorating the path as he ventured further still into the cursed city. The signs of a struggle faded as he tracked the goings of the idiots who had come to the city. 

Standing before the decrepit building the irony of the situation threatened to overwhelm him. It was Iosefka’s clinic. The place where it had all begun for him. Though the roof was caved in and the windows smashed, the building was unmistakable. 

Slamming his fist into the doorframe he let a wounded howl leave his lips. Was this to be like his first hunt? Alone, fighting what seemed to be a never-ending fight? Surely he didn’t deserve this? Had he not done enough? Earned his rest? It’d been centuries! Whatever crimes he’d committed in getting to Yharnam were surely repaid by now, his sins washed away.

But no, and here tears crept silently down his cheeks, no… he was being called to fight the plague again and he knew, knew, deep in his soul that he would fight. Even after all this time he couldn’t let this world die just yet, even if he but prolonged it’s end for a few hours, minutes, seconds… 

He would fight.


	4. A Cursed City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skull fights in Yharnam and remembers the words of hunters long past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while but here's a new chapter!  
> Anyway, this story will be having a bit of a break as my exams are coming up and immediately afterwards I'll be on Holiday in Japan so I probably won't update.  
> As it stands I hope you enjoy the chapter if you do leave a comment! I live for those things as I crave validation!

The buildings had degraded much from their former glory, the familiar cobbles thick with dirt and grime, old corpses still yet littering the streets, strewn in the positions they had died in. 

The street was silent as he crept throughout the city, glancing around with a tenseness that had not left him since he had entered the city. He had but a few throwing knives the short sword from the blades of mercy, the only weapons he could feasibly utilise in the infantile form he was trapped in. 

Before he knew it he was in Cathedral ward, in the same clearing with the familiar statue of Martyr Logarius. Gazing up at it, he remembered Alfred, the Executioner. He’d been kind, and far more hospitable than most Yharnamites. A sigh left his lips and he slumped against the cold, marble statue. No hunters remained and he could still see the faded bloodstains of Alfred’s final resting place. He gazed at it a moment more, lost in thought, perhaps Alfred had known the fate of Yharnam and had sought to put an end to the Beast Blood before it consumed him.

He snorted. Probably not. Alfred had held a great love for the healing church and his beloved Martyr Logarius. He gazed up at the moon. 

It was a beautiful thing, illuminating the small clearing, bathing him in an iridescent light. Eyes fluttering closed he relaxed, just for a while, remembering stories shared between two almost-not-quite-friends so many years ago. 

)()()()()()()()()()()(

Alas, his moment of peace was shattered by loud gunshots, piercing the quiet atmosphere of the clearing.   
Springing to his feet Skull raced in the direction of the noise.

His arrival at the scene went unnoticed as the goons of the Famiglia responsible for his return to Yharnam fired wildly at the beasts tearing them apart.

There were about 20 goons in total, all attempting to keep themselves together as they tried to fend off the hordes of beasts slathering at them, their bloodlust thick in the air. 

Bursting into action skull threw three of his knives at the beast halfway through eating a man's head, a loud squeal left the beast and he leapt above it, driving his blade down into its skull. 

Using the now-dead beast’s head as a platform, he sprung himself towards another, saving a green recruit from a painful death via torch. 

Within minutes the beasts were dead and the stench of blood and other unsavoury things tainted the air. Pulling his mask further up his face he turned towards the few surviving members of the Famiglia. There were 4 left and Skull could see the shredded remains of the rest of them, expressions still twisted in the terror they’d felt in their last moments.

Tears dripped down the face of the youngest, he couldn’t be older than 17 and he trembled as Skull racked his eyes over them, face still hidden by his mask.   
Finally, he spoke, “Why are you here?”  
They flinched, quivering in the quiet breeze. 

The bravest stepped forwards, attempting to don a smile, “Hello Arcobaleno, we are the Sperim-” Skull cut him off, eyes narrowing further.   
“Let me rephrase my question.”   
“Why. Are. You. Here?”  
He let a little bit of Other slip into his voice. He wanted answers. 

The man whimpered and a dark stain appeared near his crotch. Grimacing in disgust Skull turned to the child, whose tears had yet to stop falling. 

“I’ll only ask once more. Why Are You Here?”

The boy scrambled to answer, his voice trembled as he struggled to answer. “We - They said there was, - a drug - something that could help the Famiglia, - they, they wanted to…” As the boy explained the situation, Skull grew more and more furious. 

They’d heard stories, a journal from one who’d travelled to Yharnam and left of the miracles of the Old Blood and had sought to get their hands on it in hopes of raising their status, as well as add money to their coffers. 

“Please Sir, please, let me go, please, I’ll never return to the Mafia, please, please…” His tale done the boy descended into mindless begging, his face a mess as he pleaded for his life. 

Flicking his wrist a blade landed in the boy's eye, blood spurted from the wound, dripping down his face in a mockery of the tears he had shed a few short minutes ago. The other 3 screamed and tried to run, trampling over the dead bodies of their comrades in their haste.   
Using the quickening technique Skull appeared in front of the three who had attempted to escape, pleas for mercy arose as they backed away, weaponless and defenceless. Saying nothing he brought the blade of mercy up.   
A slit throat was all the mercy he was willing to give those who dared bring this accursed city back into the light. 

)()()()()()()()()()()(

Tracking the path of the Mafia members who he’d previously found was easy, there were many dead bodies littering the path back to their original base, almost like the fantasy fable of Hansel and Gretel.   
Skull wondered if there’d be a furnace large enough for the cleric beast he’d heard a while ago. 

Nevertheless, Skull pushed onwards, following the trail and ended up in front of the Grand Cathedral. Skull facepalmed. He’d been closer than he’d thought before he’d found those goons.

Pushing one door open just a tad he slipped inside with no problems, gaze sliding around the room as he swiftly saw that which had been added by the Mafia. He couldn’t see anyone in the room, but he remained cautious, staying in the shadows and ducking behind pillars as he searched throughout the room for the purpose of the Famiglia that had travelled so far and lost so many to venture into Yharnam. 

In truth, Skull had found nothing but a few pages of the journal they had followed, someone by the name of Markus had come here and been cured of an ailment that had taken the life of his older and younger sisters. He spoke well of the miracle cure and the Healing church for their part in saving his life. There was a small paragraph on his conversation with, Skull paused, Gherman. 

There were but a few scarce lines that he could read, ‘I found myself speaking with a pleasant man by the name of Gherman, he held a high position in the church, but I found none who would name exactly What position he held. Nevertheless, he was...’ The lines trailed off into an illegible scrawl on the following pain, with what looked like severe water damage, along with a few questionable stains. 

Swiping the pages up he palmed a molotov cocktail, backing away from the scene he threw it, setting it all ablaze. The flames danced before him, consuming the dry wood and countless papers strewn about the Grand Cathedral, throwing another her left the Cathedral, papers safely tucked away in his coat. 

Striding away from the Cathedral he glanced up at the moon in the sky, it was close to setting and he could see the sky warming to the west.

The night was almost over, but the Hunt had barely begun.


	5. Interlude: Kawahira's Introspection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kawahira contemplates Yharnam and the scourge that wiped it from the map.

INTERLUDE:

 

When Kawahira had first approached Luce with the intention of creating more Arcobaleno he hadn’t anticipated that the Cloud he had picked would end up being the Last Hunter of Yharnam. 

Not to mention those idiot humans had rediscovered the Old Blood. This wouldn’t end well. 

It hadn’t taken him long to track where the beast had come from, and his lips had curled with disgust once he’d seen the familiar skyline of Yharnam in the distance.   
Kawahira had been the one to hide the town with his mist flames after the small amount of sane people had fled. He’d hoped no one would ever return to the city, it deserved to fade into obscurity, it’s crimes and history forgotten by all. 

Though, it seemed as though someone had slipped through the cracks and gotten back to the town.  
Frowning he felt the familiar ping of the cursed pacifiers.  
Following the signal he was surprised to find the Arcobaleno Cloud reclining by the Grand Cathedral. 

He’d thought the Cloud’s weaponry had been familiar, he supposed this was a great joke for the fates, the Cloud he’d chosen to bear the burden of the Tri Ni Sette was the same hunter that had finally put an end to the healing church and their countless experiments. 

Heaving a sigh, the Mist raked a hand over his face. This was an issue. 

One of the only people left who could possibly stand a chance against the oncoming horde was cursed into an infantile form, and he was still too weak from having held the Tri Ni Sette together by himself to even hope of holding balance for any longer. He was simply too weak as he was now.

And, he hated to admit it, even to himself, he was tired. How long had he done this? Cursed people, regardless of their affiliation and dooming them to a half-life as infants before their inevitable demise, or their turning into one of the Vindice. Another sigh, just one more sin he supposed. There wasn’t anything he could do to wash the sins of his past away, and he couldn’t stand to let this world die when his dearest friend Sepira had given so much of herself in order to save. 

Closing his eyes, he gazed up at the stars, “Sepira… what would you have done in my place?” 

But, as always, his question went unanswered. The night darkened and the wind seemed to become colder by the time he opened his eyes once more. 

Gazing down at the cursed form of the Cloud he murmured an apology before spiriting himself away from the city. He’d done enough to the poor man.


	6. A Return to Italy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skull re-unites with an old friend and others debate the strange Cloud

The dream was the same as always when he arrived. White flowers, a peaceful atmosphere, and the doll standing by the gravestone.

 

“Good Hunter, what troubles you?” She had seen him through the countless horrors of the night and he was glad for her presence as he quietly made his way towards her.

 

“...”

He couldn’t find the words to describe the pain he felt as his flame flickered wildly, dancing just beneath his skin.

 

“Oh, Good Hunter…”

 

Slumping down by the doll he closed his eyes. There were deep bags underneath his eyes. His dreams had been plagued by the nightmares he’d fought, the numerous deaths and murders and the sheer insanity that had been Yharnam on that night.

 

“You are safe here, Good Hunter, nothing will harm you.”

 

A tension he hadn’t realised was there eased itself out of his shoulders as he shifted closer to the doll. A cold porcelain hand carded itself through his hair and he felt himself begin to drift off.

 

Yes, the dream hadn’t changed at all.

 

)()()()()()()()()()()(

 

Renato frowned down at the man grovelling before him on the floor.

The man blubbered and all but prostrated himself before him as he begged for his life.

 

Renato had been attempting to track down their missing Cloud to no avail, this was just one in the line of may who’d claimed to have seen their Cloud.

 

Shooting out the man’s other knee he glowered down at the man, Sun flames flickering in his eyes. A cold smile cut across his face and he spoke softly, “Where. Is. Skull.”

 

The man’s name was Alejandro, probably a fake, but Renato didn’t care for his real one. When no new information came out Renato aimed his gun.

 

A widening of the eyes.

 

Fear.

 

A gunshot.

 

Silence.

 

)()()()()()()()()()()( 

 

Awareness came slowly and he blinked several times to shake the vestiges of sleep from his mind. The hand that had been so soothingly stroking his hair paused.

 

“Hello, Good Hunter, did you enjoy your rest?”

 

Turning his head Skull gazed up at the doll, “Yes. Thank you doll.” She inclined her head and resumed her petting.

 

Skull was loathe to get up but duty called. He had to find the remnants of the Famiglia he’d tracked down last night. The man, he’d mentioned a ‘Sperimen-something’ family.

 

Frowning as he stood he sighed at his own impatience, perhaps he should have let the man finish his sentence. Well, it was too late now, the man was now beast food.

 

He’d have to return to Italy to find that family… it wouldn’t take him too long to hunt them down, there were only so many families that could start with ‘Sperimen’ right?

 

Returning to the gravestone he bid his farewell to the doll.

 

The sun was hanging high in the sky when he returned to the waking world. Moving quickly, Skull made his way out of the Society, following the, by now, well-beaten path as he made his way away from the city.

 

Arriving at the nearest town he was irritated by the countless concerned civilians approaching him, asking him where his parents were, and why he was alone.

 

Logically, he understood that they were attempting to make sure an infant was alright, and not suffering, but it didn’t mean that it was appreciated. He was over 200 years old. He wasn’t a child by a longshot.

 

Slipping away from the newest attempted ‘caregiver’ was relatively easy and he again cursed his infant form as he realised that he was unable to highjack or even steal a car in order to get back to Italy.

 

It had been far easier to come here before as he’d been able to steal one of the miniaturised cars Luce had created for the Arcobaleno. But now, that car was gone, likely mistaken as a lost toy or scrapped by someone in the town.

 

Resigning himself to a long walk, Skull began his trek to Italy.

 

If he was lucky he might be able to hitchhike part of the way.

 

)()()()()()()()()()()(

  

Viper was… surprised.

 

This was not a state they appreciated being in. They liked to have a set amount of knowledge on the people they associated with, including the locations said associates were at.

 

But Skull, the idiot, lackey, useless Cloud was somehow, through some unknown means, evading their scrying.

  
They faltered for a second remembering the 'Beast' that had fallen through the roof, completely ignoring their illusions as they flung them at them as the stench of blood and death attacked them in such a way they almost gagged. This was not a state they appreciated being in. They liked to have a set amount of knowledge on the people they associated with, including the locations said associates were at.

 

Deciding to try once more they weren't surprised when it didn't work.

 

Frowning they puffed out a cheek in irritation. It might've surprised most people, but Viper actually liked Skull. His acidic tongue and ability to annoy Renato had always amused them.

Not being able to find him was... disconcerting.

 

Giving up for the day, they pushed the subject of Skull out of their mind. They would look for Skull another day, right now, there was money to be made.

 

)()()()()()()()()()()(

 

Luce sat in the Arcobaleno mansion. Completely alone. She'd foreseen this of course.

Had seen how the group that Checkerface had gathered would leave, giving her nothing but glares and betrayal sharp as knives as they left without a word. She'd seen that this would happen.

 

But it still hurt.

 

And Skull.

 

She'd expected some rage from everyone, including the freedom-loving cloud, but she hadn't anticipated the sheer... _mindlessness_. Of what Skull had done.  
It had taken the skills of all the Arcobaleno to escape the clearing with little to no injuries. 

 

There had been a savagery to the attack, he'd seemed more a beast than a man, and they'd all agreed to let the Cloud calm down in his own time. For all their strength, no one liked dealing with angry Clouds. 

 

But there had been something more to the Cloud's attack. Something more primal, something that had incited them all to flee regardless of their position as the Strongest Seven. She shivered remembering the sheer anger the Cloud had let out, and the ominous warning the Cloud had given before leaving for good. She doubted she would meet the Cloud again. And if she did... it would likely be on her deathbed. 

 

But for now, Luce glanced down at her round stomach, she just had to worry about delivering Aria. Relaxing back into the chair she cast her mind to her latest vision. If she played her cards right, she might be able to break the Arcobaleno curse. 

The details were blurry but... she would try her hardest to ensure an end to the curse. Letting out a bitter laugh she mentally apologised to her daughter. 

She would doom them both to save her granddaughter. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter is a bit late, but I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas/Holiday! And I wish you all a Happy New Year!


	7. At the end of it all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certain people catch Skull on his return trip to Italy, and others debate their own feelings on the matter of the person known as 'Skull'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom! This chapter was giving me quite a bit of trouble but I managed to get it out.   
> To be honest with all of you, I'm not too sure where to go with this and your input would be greatly appreciated!  
> What do you guys want to happen in the story?   
> Leave a comment telling me what you think and your ideas!
> 
> Have a wonderful day!

Skull was haggard by the time he’d gotten back to Italy. It had taken a surprising amount of effort to evade the numerous well-meaning people trying to help him get back to his non-existent parents. 

 

Of course, this meant that he was in no way willing to deal with Renato. 

 

“Lackey.” The words were ground out through gritted teeth as the World’s Greatest Hitman stalked towards him, looking as intimidating as an infant could, which was to say, not at all. 

 

Skull no longer had a use for the mask of ‘Skull the Lackey,’ he had much more important things to worry about. Namely the looming threat of the beastly scourge and shoving down his own bloodlust. He’d managed to suppress it for the time being, but it was still there, scratching at his control, bubbling beneath the surface, longing for freedom. 

On his bad days, he wanted to let it out. To let go. To let the beast inside of him free. 

 

Today was a bad day.

 

And it had only gotten worse with the arrival of the walking definition of arrogance that was Renato Sinclair. 

 

“Sinclair.” 

 

Renato stopped in front of him, cheeks pulled in an adorable scowl, “Where have you been?”

 

Skull frowned, brushing past him, “Places.” 

 

A hand caught him by the shoulder and it was only the knowledge that he couldn’t afford to lose control again that prevented Renato from losing said hand. 

 

“Lackey.” There was a warning in Renato’s voice, and Skull would not, Could Not take this disrespect to himself any longer. 

  
It was by his hand that this world was free of the scourge. It was by his hand that this miserable, pathetic, frivolous, world was still in existence. It Was Because Of Him. Skull. That no beast had come to this wretched being and torn his head off his shoulders. 

 

Raising his hand, Skull laid it, deceptively light, on Renato’s forearm. 

 

“I. Do. Not. Owe. You. Answers.” 

 

Lifting the others hand off he strode away. 

 

He wasn’t going to waste his time on something so far beneath him.

 

* * *

 

 

The next to cross his path was Viper. 

 

If he wasn’t certain of Viper’s own dislike of Renato he’d have thought they’d planned this. 

“Mou… Skull, where have you been?” Unsaid was the question, ‘ _ Why couldn’t I track you? _ ’ 

 

Giving a bland smile to Viper he continued on his way. He had no desire to converse with anybody. 

 

Viper, thankfully was unlike Renato in that he didn’t press the issue. 

However, they were very much like Renato in that they were extraordinarily stubborn when it came to ferreting out the secrets of the people they spoke too. 

 

Skull was just irritated that they’d try at all. 

He was Not in the mood to spill out the numerous secrets he kept close to his heart. Secrets that he would take to his grave. Wherever, or Whenever that may be. 

 

He let Viper follow him for a time before he spoke to them. 

“Tell me what you know of a Famiglia by the name of Sperimen-something.” 

 

Viper didn’t jump, they were far too professional for that, he did, however, see the split second tenseness that settled in the Mist’s shoulders before evening out. 

 

“Mou… that’ll be 500 thousand Euros.” Skull turned towards the mist raising an eyebrow before nodding shortly. 

 

There was a moment where Viper paused, fighting between asking why and gaining money. 

In the end, the money won.

 

“I’ll contact you with the information when you pay.” 

  
And with that, the Mist dramatically disappeared. 

 

Face deadpan, Skull continued to stare at the spot the Mist had previously occupied. 

 

“Not fair.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

It had taken Skull some time to find the coins in the Dream. He’d shoved them down to the very bottom, after all, they’d been of absolutely no use to him during the night of the hunt. He hadn’t imagined he’d need much use for them when he could roam the world without the need for food, water, or shelter.

 

He hadn’t anticipated having to gather information… he’d thought he’d be dead by now. 

 

The thought drifted by and Skull stopped his rummaging for just a second. 

 

That was the truth though, wasn’t it? 

 

He didn’t expect to live after the hunt. It had haunted him for so long. For a time he’d hoped to get over it… but that hadn’t happened and he’d ended up just… wandering. Haunted by the nightmares he saw every time he closed his eyes. Plagued by the failures of his hunt. The deaths of people he had considered allies… and maybe even… friends. 

 

Pulling back from the chest, he slumped into a nearby chair. 

 

He had very deliberately avoided thinking of the hunt before, but now it was coming back. All the fear, the pain, the confusion and ultimately the heartbreak as he’d failed to save people time and time again. 

 

At the end of it all, there were only 4 left. And now, they too were gone. Dust in the wind. 

 

He blinked his suspiciously wet eyes. Once. Twice. 

 

The first tear slid down his face, ever so slowly before dropping onto his lap. The second followed quickly, the third, the fourth. He lost count as his vision blurred. 

 

Before he knew it, the tears were all but pouring from his eyes. A great, heaving sob tore its way out of his throat and he cradled his head in his hands. Sliding from the chair he knelt on the floor, bent double as he wept into his hands. 

 

An oh so familiar voice came from the entrance of the workshop, “Good Hunter, what troubles you?’ Soft footsteps approached before a porcelain hand tilted his face up. 

 

He opened his mouth, “... I…” He couldn’t speak. Turning his gaze towards the floor he sat.  Tears still streaming down his face, as he tried, and failed to voice the apologies, the screams, that wanted to leave him. 

 

Voice thick with sympathy, pale arms wound their way around him. “It is alright, Good Hunter. You are safe here.”

 

And cradled like a babe to its mother’s chest he wept. 

 

Wept for the children that he’d failed. Wept for his lost innocence. Wept for the burned city that had taken so much and given so little. Wept for the poor sick man trapped behind cold iron bars, begging to die a human. Wept for the kind lady of the night, driven mad by her own child. Wept for the jealous nun. Wept for the hunter’s trapped in a nightmare of their own making. 

 

Skull cried himself into a sleep cradled by a doll that didn’t know anything but to love the hunter’s that passed through this terrible, terrible, dream. 

 

* * *

 

 

Colonello didn’t really know anything about the Cloud that had gone apeshit after the curse had happened. 

 

Granted, if he had really known the Sky, Luce, he would have probably been just as pissed. 

 

Fortunately, he really hadn’t known the Sky, so he wasn't really feeling any sort of betrayal towards her. He still would never even Think to harmonise with her. Not after Lal had… she’d… her flame was… broken.

 

Honestly, with the limited knowledge he had of flames, he’d of thought her flame would’ve gone into discord. Thankfully she hadn’t. She was still sane. Hurt but sane. Anything else could come second as long as she was still sane.

 

From the knowledge he’d managed to glean from the Sky, the curse that he and the others were suffering from was called the Arcobaleno curse, and it causing them to become infants was a side-effect, not the main goal. She hadn’t told him more, and there’d been some well-hidden guilt in her eyes as she had smiled tiredly at him while refusing to tell him more. 

 

For all that Lal should really be focusing on herself, she was… concerned about the Cloud in the set. For all she’d never treated him with respect, she was worried about him. Hell, even though he’d never met the guy he was worried about him. Maybe a holdover of his military days, protecting civilians and all that. And a civilian dragged into the Mafia? Stories like that didn’t tend to end well. For anybody really. 

 

So, in order to help ease his Lal’s mind, he’d made it a kinda side-project to look out for the fella. Not too much though. He wasn’t risking his or Lal’s neck for someone he didn’t know. 


	8. A meeting of minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skull begins to learn the answers to some of his many, many questions. But at the end of it all, he is left with even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! This came out a little later than I'd expected, but it's here now!  
> As it stands I'm really not too sure where to go from this! I hope you all enjoy the chapter, and I'd really appreciate some feedback from you all!  
> I have a tumblr where you can ask me questions about anything really, I'm Sytrys_Cauldron over there so come on over!

Skull hadn’t expected to run into a fellow child-sized adult here. He also hadn’t expected to run into a fellow child-sized adult that he  _ didn’t _ recognise. 

 

“Oi! You’re Skull right, Kora!” He blanked. 

 

He turned towards the infant. 

 

“... Yes?” 

 

A bright glare (or maybe it was just his normal expression?) was on the child’s face as he proceeded to stomp towards him. 

 

“I’m Colonello, Kora!” A hand was thrust towards him. Skull stared before bemusedly shaking his hand. 

“Skull, but I suppose you already knew that.” His lips twitched upwards and he refrained from properly smiling as he wished. He remembered enough of his own humanity to know that  _ that _ wouldn’t end well. 

 

Colonello frowned at him for a moment as though debating whether or not shooting himself in the foot would be better than shooting himself in the hand. 

His comically childish voice was softened as he practically whispered the next few words, “Where have you been, Kora. Lal’s been worried…” 

 

The blond refused to look at him as he said this. Eyes darting to and fro as though looking for an unseen or unnoticed threat. 

 

Skull almost smiled. The poor boy hadn’t realised the true threat was right in front of him. 

 

“Certain things have drawn my attention… I don’t believe they’ll be resolved very easily though.”    
There. Short. Concise. To the point. He’d gotten better at conversations since the Night of the Hunt. This time he was able to hold actual conversations. Skull was extraordinarily proud of that. 

 

Turning away from the blonde he continued towards one of the many, many, safe houses he’d established over his years roaming Europe. 

 

Even now, they would still be there, he checked up on them often enough to be sure of that, at the very least. 

 

“Oi! Where are you going?!” The blonde trotted up behind him, brow furrowed as he tried to continue the conversation. He was persistent, Skull could give him that. 

 

“A place.” Well. He could always simply warp away, but what was the fun in that? He was immortal for all that it had driven him to near insanity. He had to get his kicks somehow.    
And since his most recent mask of ‘Skull: The Immortal Stuntman’ had been shattered, he could at least annoy those who’d known him as ‘Skull The Lackey.’

 

…

 

…

Which this person wasn’t. He could feel himself positively squirm in excitement. 

 

Time to see how easy it would be to rile this one up. 

 

Pasting on a bright( _ fake _ ) grin he whirled around, pushing himself far too close for comfort and practically screeching the next words, “Oh! The Great Skull-Sama has never met you before~!” 

 

Skull was very sure that the blonde, (Colo-something, he’d said his name before, right?) had never had to deal with someone as… eccentric as the persona known as ‘Skull’ was before. 

 

The man was practically a statue in front of him as he gaped for a solid moment at him. It took a surprising amount of effort to hold his form together as well as he did in that moment. 

Colo-whatsit’s (Really he did need to get this guy’s name again soon,)  mouth gaping open, very unattractively, “Maa~ I know The Great Skull-Sama is amazing, but you don’t need to show that much awe~!” 

 

He pulled back, hand rubbing faux-nervously through his hair as his eyes darted to and fro. 

 

Snapping his fingers, Skull smiled, “Oh! I know~!” 

 

Colo-something tensed.

 

Skull reached into his pocket. ‘Right, it was an N!’

 

Colonutella’s hand wrapped around a gun.

 

“An autograph~!”

 

He pretended not to notice the tension seeping out of the blonde’s frame as he waved around the permanent marker he’d just taken from a messenger. 

 

Paying no mind to the attempts to dodge the pen Colo-Nile undertook, he scrawled his signature on the blonde’s bandanna, right across, ‘The Great Skull-Sama (insert star emoji here).’

 

Leaning back, Skull admired his work, “There! Nothing but the best for a fan~!” 

 

The blonde had snapped out of whatever had overcome him earlier, and his face was turning an astonishing colour of red. It almost looked like a ripe cherry. 

 

The man’s hand twitched. Once. Twice, before wrapping around the handle of a handgun. 

 

“... I’m going to give you to the count of three.”

 

“One.”

 

‘Skull’ gulped, body posture, the very picture of, ‘Oh,  **shit** ,’ eyes darting wildly about. 

“Two.”

 

He took several steps back, in the direction of one of his safe houses. 

 

“Three.”

 

The blonde looked up, death in his eyes, and perhaps, in any other man, it would inspire fear.

 

But Skull wasn’t a man. To him, it looked more like a small kitten trying to play tough. In short. It was adorable.

 

Skull felt that if he called the man that he’d lose an eye.

 

“You’re adorable!” 

 

Sometimes Skull felt it was worth it. 

 

Colonello’s (And that was his name!) eye twitched. 

 

Skull ran.

 

* * *

 

Losing the blonde had been rather easy, Skull had merely slipped into the sewers and crawled his way towards his safe house. 

 

Nestled in many blankets, hair still dripping from the shower he’d taken, Skull relaxed. With barely a thought, he grabbed the music box that the messengers had been kind enough to get for him and cranked it slowly. 

 

A soothing melody flooded the room and Skull practically melted as he let the familiar tune take him back to kind conversations and better times. 

 

For all Yharnam had been a nightmare, there had been many bright points. After all, he’d gained some friends, and although in the end, he’d lost them. He’d rather have loved and lost than never loved them at all. 

 

Perhaps that had stopped his full ascension. He’d clung too closely to his love for his fellow man, and so he was doomed to roam the world till he let go of it, once and for all. 

 

* * *

 

Blearily opening his eyes, Skull gave a soft moan as the sun’s bright rays filtered into the room. 

 

Blinking to clear his eyes, he wriggled his arms free to rub his eyes, sleep clinging to them as he regained consciousness. 

 

The music box lay, forgotten, on the floor, tilted on its side, he could almost imagine that this was what it looked like on that fateful night before he’d been given it by the young girl.

 

Shifting himself into a better position, Skull gave a loud yawn, his back cracking as he stretched upwards, freed from the confines of the nest of blankets he’d made, still wrapped around his lower half. 

 

Pulling himself to his feet, he shuffled to the kitchen. For all that he had no need to eat, it still brought comfort to him, and so, he cooked himself a simple breakfast. Just some rice and canned meat with soy sauce. 

 

Sitting on the floor, his meal situated on the small coffee table, he allowed himself to blearily blink himself back to awareness. Idly, he traced the familiar runes that he’d etched onto the table long ago. 

 

He’d done it in a small fit of madness some few decades back. When the voices in the back of his head kept screaming and the runes burned into his mind slammed forward with a vengeance. 

 

Those were bad days. 

 

His meal finished, Skull cleared the table, before bringing out the pieces of the journal he’d saved in order to decipher them. Perhaps he’d find some clues as to how exactly the ‘Sperimen-something’ Famiglia had gotten their hands on it.

 

The Journal chronicled the journey of one, Jeremiah DeWitt, a doctor who had come to study the effects of the Healing Church’s treatments, and his research into if the results could be replicated without the use of blood. 

 

The doctor had been planning to return to England shortly before his death, and his belongings had already been sent back to his home by the time word of his death had spread beyond the isolated city.

 

It seemed that the poor doctor had met his end at the hands of the choir. 

 

Purple eyes narrowed as Skull read further into DeWitt’s research, it appeared he was on the cusp of a breakthrough. 

That, at least, explained why the Healing Church was so adamant in being an obstacle to his research. As far as Skull could tell, DeWitt had been blocked at almost every turn by the Church, close to becoming branded as a heretic at the very least. 

 

Closing the old book gently, Skull turned. 

 

Some of his questions had been answered. 

 

But others… others still required an explanation.


	9. Interlude 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of drabbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so quick thing before we start, I'm sorry I haven't updated this for a while, I'll be honest I've kinda lost a bit of inspiration for this, but it'll probably come back in fits and spurts with drabbles and the like that'll, hopefully, result in a new chapter!
> 
> As always, thanks to everyone for reading and commenting, I'm always so glad to know that people enjoy my writing!
> 
> \- Sytry's Cauldron

**His First Death:**

Skull didn’t remember much when he first woke in Yharnam.

When his consciousness had first returned to him, he had stared at the ceiling for several moments, wondering at the unfamiliar architecture and dizzying patterns swirling above his head. The world seemed to spin in and out of focus as he had squinted up at the carved wood that made up the ceiling of the room he was in. 

If he was honest, he had no clue how long he had stayed there, confusion clouding his mind, laying on his back on an uncomfortable mattress.

 

His attention was only drawn away by a strange snarling, it was a feral sound that grated at his ears and left him with shivers crawling up his spine. 

 

This was the first beast he had ever seen. 

 

It almost looked like it could have been a human once. And for a moment he had thought it was. But that moment passed quickly, as he took in its too long limbs, gaunt, skin stretched unnaturally over it. What might once have been a person’s face pulled into a wolf-like snout, filled with sharp teeth, and dripping blood as guttural growls that no man could make left its mouth.

 

He hadn’t been sure if he was hallucinating or not. It had seemed so unreal, something out of a nightmare more than a thing of reality. 

 

He still didn’t know what had compelled him to get up, to force his tired limbs to push his body up and stumble towards the exit. To try and see what this hallucination of his was made of. 

 

He learnt very quickly that this was no dream. 

 

He could barely manage a scream when the creature jumped on him, its weight holding his emancipated form down with no trouble. A horrid screech left its snarling face as it bore down upon him, wet smatterings of gore slipping onto its face before it bit into his shoulder. 

 

He died screaming, crying, begging for someone to save him as he was ripped apart by the beast. Its claws ripped into him, tearing his flesh asunder and he could hardly tell if his screaming increased or decreased in volume. 

 

As his life slipped away from him he gave one last choked gurgle, as the familiar metallic tang of his own blood dripped from his mouth. 

 

He didn’t want to die. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waking again after dying was… something. 

 

When he had taken his first breath of fresh air after his death his hands had shot up to his throat and he had coughed horribly as tears had inched their way down his cheeks. He could still feel the beast's claws raking down his body, could still feel its sharp teeth digging into his neck, tearing into him as it tried to devour him whole. 

 

Skull was not ashamed to say that he had curled into a ball and wept in the dream for what felt like hours. 

 

It was only after he had finished his weeping that he had found the strength to leave the garden, that his curiosity had led him to the steps leading up to the workshop. To the little messengers that he had grown fond of during the hunt.

 

But those memories were for another day. When the hunt didn’t feel so close, and the moon wasn’t so bright. 

 

 

**Journey to Yharnam:**

A darkened figure appeared against the burnt orange of the sky. The wind buffeted against him as he stumbled towards the faint silhouette in the distance, tall, dark buildings sharply contrasting the evening glow of the sun. He stood tall for a long moment, taking in the sight before him. 

 

This was it.

 

The reason he’d traversed thousands of leagues from his. 

 

Yharnam. 

  
The city of blood-healing.

 

A possible cure for the sickness that continued to ravage his body. 

 

He was so close now he could practically taste it. A long exhale shook his frame and he gave himself a moment’s respite from the fierce aching in his limbs, and the fluttering pain in his lungs. 

 

As he began to continue his journey, he froze, a terrible stillness coming over him, before he burst into motion. Harsh coughing wracked his frame as he bent double, his form trembling under the force of it all, blood dripped from his mouth, the red stark against his pale skin. 

 

His knees trembled under his own weight for a moment. Then he collapsed. His knees slamming into the ground with a dull thud, his hands flying out to catch himself. 

 

Red bloomed on the grass beneath his feet as he struggled to hold back the hacking coughs, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. It hurt. Every shuddering breath he could get in was robbed from him in a perfect kind of torture. 

 

The fit passed, leaving him breathless, his arms trembling with the strain of holding himself up, above the small puddle of his own blood. Staring into it, he was only more harshly reminded of his own fate if he could not reach the fabled city.

 

He didn’t want to die. Not here. Not when he had come so far, endured so much, and lost everything he had once had. 

 

He would not die here.

 

With trembling arms, and bloodstained clothes, the boy who would become Skull forced his weakened body up, his purple eyes flickering like flames as he pushed himself forwards the faint silhouette far in the distance. 

 

A faint smile curled across his face.

 

He wasn’t dying here. 

 

**A Future that could be:**

 

No one in the Arcobaleno was quite sure when they had all become a family of sorts. 

 

Perhaps it had started when Skull had first shown a glimpse of who he was and the rest had banded together to try and find him.

 

Perhaps it had been when they had all been cursed and Skull had raged, raged at the sky that had bound them, at the curse that had forced them all into the form of infants. When all his anger and bloodlust had been directed at the sky and none at his fellow elements.

 

No, none of them were quite certain why they had all started treating each other as family, if not friends. 

 

But sitting in the Arcobaleno mansion after the curse had been lifted, they all knew that they could never simply part ways now that they could age, could grow old with those they cared about. Could actually care about people and stay with them to the end, no longer doomed to watch those they had known wither away while they remained untouched by the shackles of time. 

 

Yes, looking over the elements bathed in harmony without the need for a sky, the Arcobaleno could say, that this, this was a good day for all of them. 


End file.
